


Here in Your Perfect Eyes

by HotGoatCheese



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, May add tags as i go, Teen Pregnancy, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotGoatCheese/pseuds/HotGoatCheese
Summary: Later that night, she kissed him. Despite everything he kissed back. When the kiss broke he breathed “Listen, I don’t know if I’m too old or you’re too young or both but we can’t do that again.”He could still feel her breath on his lips when she said “Bullshit.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much anxiety about writing this but I couldn't get it out of my head. I have even more anxiety about posting this and really I'm not even sure what my excuse is for that. 
> 
> The basic premise is that Stan didn't demand that thank you from Ford, so the zodiac worked and he had to leave at the end of the summer, and Wendy decided to run away with him for her own reasons. 
> 
> Title is from Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, and I recognize that is sappier then anything the couple would accept for themselves but naming this story was probably the hardest part of deciding to post it.

The first time Wendy’s hands wandered, Stan didn’t know how to react. “Um, kid?” 

“Chill out, old man.” She said with a bright smile, but that wasn’t how kids touched old men. 

The second time, Stan was too relieved to care. They’d been separated, there was a near miss, he almost lost her. She was all he had in the world anymore and he almost lost her. He was already hugging her inappropriately close and her soft touch did little but reassure him she was still alive. 

The third time, he tried to put a stop to it. “Hey...no…” 

Her hand shifted, brushing somewhere nobody but him had touched in decades. “Really?” 

“Kid…” he groaned. “What’re you doing?” 

She blew out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” she admitted. 

“Then don’t do it.” he growled, pulling away. 

Later that night, she kissed him. Despite everything he kissed back. When the kiss broke he breathed “Listen, I don’t know if I’m too old or you’re too young or both but we can’t do that again.” 

He could still feel her breath on his lips when she said “Bullshit.” 

“I’m serious, kid.” he said.

“So am I.” she replied. 

He sighed. “Why do you even wanna do this? Shouldn’t you think I’m a gross old man or something?” 

“Oh, you are.” She laughed at his pointed look and said “you’re also the best guy I know.” 

“I’m really not.” he said automatically. 

She punched him in the shoulder and his arm went numb. “You are. You’re...ugh. Don’t make me be sappy. I’m not letting you fish for complements here.” 

“I’m really not.” he echoed, and she laughed. A youthful cackle that only reinforced his position. 

“Oh man.” She breathed. Then “Look, if you’re not into me, I get it. But I think you are. That kiss says you are. And if you’re just saying no because you hate yourself then I’m not taking that for an answer.” 

“I’m saying no ‘cause you’re a kid and it’d be wrong.” Stan insisted. “C’mon, you were creeped out when Dipper liked ya, you should get it.” 

“I wasn’t creeped out.” Wendy explained. “I just wasn’t into him like that.” 

“But you’re into me like that?” Stan asked, skeptically. 

She frowned. “I wasn’t. Not before. But...like, when I ran away? I never expected... “ she struggled a moment to find the words. “Your car is like, my home now. We have each other’s backs and not much else and, well. You mean a lot to me.” 

Stan blew out a breath he hadn’t meant to hold. “So, whaddya want here? To be my girlfriend or something? You know that’s weird, right? I’m old enough to be your grandpa.” 

“I don’t care what we call it, I just…” she actually looked nervous. “I want you.” 

Stan frowned. “So, what happens if I keep saying no? You gonna run away again?” 

She shook her head. “No way, dude. You’re stuck with me either way.” 

He smiled at her, and he felt so warm and comfortable that he kissed her again without thought. In weeks and months to come, on sleepless nights of self-hatred, Stan would think of that moment as the point of no return. His hand gently cupped her face and she rested her hand on his as their lips parted and tongues met. Stan had almost forgotten how awesome making out was. He could feel she wanted to do more, but neither of them escalated. 

They fell asleep with him holding her in the back seat. 

-

Friday, December 21 2012 saw Stanley Pines doing something he hadn’t done in thirty years. Meeting with a Loan Shark. As rusty as he was, the meeting went well. He left Wendy at a grocery store to stock up and made a few purchases of his own. Wendy had been waiting a while when he picked her up.

“What took so long?” she asked. 

He grinned at her. “You’ll see.” 

She didn’t take that for an answer and made guesses the entire drive. Stan grumped at her a little, but she was undeterred all the way up to when they pulled into the parking lot. “Did you get us a motel room?” she asked.

Stan finally answered her. “Yep.” 

He opened the door. On top of the coveres in the center of the single bed was a brand-new, long, thick winter jacket. It still had the anti-shoplifting tag on it as it was the one thing Stan had stolen today. His actual purchases were strewn across the desk, a selection of microwavable foods to last a week and, most extravagantly, a thirty-inch pine tree leaning on the wall in the far corner.

“Woah, Stan.” 

“Merry Christmas, babe.” he said, guiding her father into the room with a hand on her lower back. He shut the door behind him. The moment it was closed she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He stumbled half a step from her weight and she soon had him pinned to the door. 

The kiss was passionate and intense and then Wendy pulled back and breathed “How?” 

“Got a loan.” Stan answered cheerfully.

“A loan?” she echoed. “From who?” 

Stan shrugged. “Just a guy.” 

Wendy eyed him warily. “Were you planning on just...not paying this guy back? ‘Cause…” she trailed off pointedly. Then “You know you can just tell me if you stole it, right?” 

Stan made a dismissive noise and said “I know, but listen…” and he went right back into the pitch he gave the loan shark. When he was done, Wendy didn’t look excited. In fact, she seemed… “Babe?” it was a recent pet name. An acknowledgement of their ambiguous relationship. “What’s wrong?” 

“We’d...have to stay here though.” she said. “Like. Forever.” 

“Not really.” Stan said. “I mean, I figure at least for the winter. But once we break even we can pick up and go whenever we want.” He expected a question about what if they never broke even. That was certainly haunting him. Now that he wasn’t alone, he was terrified Wendy could be used against him. Or worse, would get hurt because of him. She was tough though, she could take care of herself if need be. 

The question didn’t come. Instead her voice went seductive and she asked “How long do we have the motel for?” 

“All month.” he said. “It’s paid up ‘til January twentieth, and I got dibs on getting another month after that if we want.” 

She just looked at him for a minute. He couldn’t read her face. Then she kissed him again. 

It the week or so since their first, Stan and Wendy had done little more than kiss. A little more, in that Stan had grabbed her boob once in a heated moment and she’d pawed at his junk three or four times. He could tell she wanted more though. Stan didn’t know how he felt about that. Enough of him did too that he’d bought condoms. They were sitting in the bathroom for her to discover whenever she needed it. Some of him felt gross for that much. Felt guilty for indulging her, for being more than her boss and friend at all. And still another part was terrified of ruining this delicate thing, of making her realize he wasn’t a good man. 

She started to drag him toward the bed and he had just long enough to panic before she broke away and picked up her new coat. Stan sat on the edge of the bed, and Wendy laughed when she saw the store tag. “Hey.” he protested. “It wasn’t a big loan.” 

“You could’ve just gotten a cheaper coat.” she reminded him. 

They curled up on the bed together that evening. Turned on the TV and found a movie to make fun of together. It was the best time Stan had had in awhile, and while the credits rolled, he just looked at her, and let himself feel. It was a bad idea.

“Stan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You okay, man?” 

No, he thought. I’m not. I’m in love with a sixteen year old and I’m going to hell. Out loud he said “Yeah,” and covered his obvious emotions with a dig at the movie. She laughed and he kissed her and he felt like he was home. 

When she found the condoms, she didn’t say anything about them. She asked about the tree instead, and they made a late night run to a dollar store for decorations and a stand to put it upright. They didn’t set it up to decorate just yet though. Wendy went back to the bathroom and came back in nothing but a bra and underwear, a condom in hand. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, even though he was lightheaded from a fair amount of blood from his brain deciding it was needed elsewhere. 

“After everything you did for me today?” she answered, and Stan went cold. “Absolutely.” 

“No.” 

“What?” 

He shook his head. “We’re not doing this because you feel like you owe me.” 

“That’s not…” she protested. 

“It’s what you said!” he interrupted. “I’m not like that. I won’t take...that. Not as some kinda payment.” 

She looked away, and when she looked back it was clear she was near to breaking. “Do you not...want me?” 

“Babe…” he said softly. Then he sighed. “...I do. God fuckin forgive me, I do. But the important part is that you have to want me. If you don’t…” he stopped and shook his head. “Then no. No because it can’t be for any reason except that you,” here he pointed to her, for emphasis. “Want me.” and he turned his hand to point at himself, also for emphasis. Then he dropped his hand. “I don’t think you know how fucked up this is, Wendy.” he didn’t use her name all that often, had usually been kid, and now it was usually babe, so that too was for emphasis. All of this, he needed to drill it into her head. “Even the slightest whiff of me taking advantage, and this flies right over the edge. I can’t make this clear enough. I don’t want to hurt you.” he let that sit for a moment, just a moment, not long enough to let her interrupt with poorly thought through reassurances. “I respect that you can make your own decisions, that’s why I bought those.” he gestured to the object in her hand. “But. Not a thank you. Not payment. Never. You can’t sell yourself to me ‘cause I ain’t buyin.” 

Wendy just stood there for several moments. Then she sighed, a deep, weary sigh and sank onto the edge of the bed beside him. She sat there a moment longer, staring at the condom in her hand. Finally, she said the last thing Stan could possibly have expected to hear. “Can girls get blueballs?” 

Stan looked at her, not sure if he was startled more by the broken silence or the question. “Wha…” 

“‘Cause if they can, I think you’ve been giving them to me all week.” 

Once more, Stan just stared at her in silence. His mouth wasn’t exactly hanging open, but his jaw had definitely gone slack. The words hung in the air another several beats, and finally, Stan laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags

March First 2013, Wendy Corduroy was shaking when she went to bed. Her boyfriend of about four months, her boss and best friend, Stan Pines was curled into her back, face buried in her hand and hand, of all places, on her belly. 

She tried to imagine his hand there when her belly was swollen out two, three, four times its normal size. It made her a little lightheaded. He’d be there though. Of all her fears, Stan running out on her wasn’t one of them. 

Honestly, Wendy wasn’t totally sure what she was so afraid of. All she knew was that she was shaking and her lungs were tight and she couldn’t do this. Then Stan kissed her neck and for one, deliriously happy moment, she fear fled. She had everything she needed. A good enough job working for a man who would do anything for the people he loved and by all accounts seemed to love her. In that moment, that was all she needed. 

The moment came crashing down a second later and a sob escaped Wendy’s throat without warning. “Babe…” Stan’s voice was soft, but heavy with grogginess. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s really not, dude.” she breathed. “I can’t do this.” 

“Well…” she tensed, ready for a lecture. They should have been more diligent with protection. It was too late now. He surprised her though. “You don’t have to.” 

“What?” 

“I’m just sayin.” He sounded defensive. “You’re gonna have to see a doctor either way and…” he paused, then “It’s uh, your choice and all.” and then Wendy understood.

“Oh.” She said. “Would you be okay with...with that?” 

He grunted in response, and she rolled over under his arm to look at him. He huffed and leaned in so his forehead touched hers. “No.” he admitted. “But it’s not my call.” he shifted, ran his hand once up and once down her spine. “Wendy, you’re a kid yourself.” he said. “None of this is okay.” 

“Stop taking responsibility for my actions, old man.” She answered threateningly. “If you weren’t so careful, this would’ve happened months ago.” 

“Still happened though.” Stan grumped. “And I was at least a little bit involved.” 

“So maybe you get a little bit of a say?” Wendy offered. Stan made a considering noise and Wendy found herself gripping at his shirt. “At least don’t make me figure this out on my own.” 

He was silent for longer then she’d like, but it was really only a couple seconds before he said “Yeah, okay.” Then he groaned. “Ugh. We’re gonna have to do the whole open and honest conversation thing, huh?” 

She smirked. “Yep. I don’t like it any more than you.” He groaned again, louder and longer this time, but he squeezed her close at the same time, so when he was done she dove right in. “So if you wouldn’t be okay with it, why did you bring it up?” 

Stan sighed. “‘Cause it might be the right call here.” he said. “Even without the haunting ethical questions about our whole relationship, we’re not in any position to raise a kid right now.” 

“Then why aren’t you okay with...that?” she asked.

This time, he was ready with his answer. “Because as of right now, I’m gonna be a dad.” there was genuine wonder in his voice. “And taking that away is gonna hurt.” 

He was right, of course. They had both played at parenthood before, her with her brothers and him with the twins and even Soos (and wasn’t that a trip? Soos was older then her and her boyfriend was practically his dad) but a child of their own? A tiny person who would probably have her hair and his ears and would call them mommy and daddy? It was almost more than she could say no to. “Yeah.” she agreed. Then “Could we do it though? Could we raise a kid?” Stan didn’t answer, didn’t make a sound. Seconds ticked by and she finally asked “Stan?” 

“It’d be rough.” he said. “A lot could go wrong, and it’s not fair to ask you to do that just because I can’t let go of some dumb fantasy of having a family.” 

He had that tone. The tone he got when a job went wrong, or when he got uncomfortable about her being attracted to him. The tone that meant he was hating on himself. “Hey.” she said, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s not dumb. I kinda want a family of my own someday too.” 

“Yeah, someday.” His voice was harsh and she almost winced. “Not NOW, not with ME!” 

“Hell yeah, with you.” she argued. “That’s what I like best about this whole thing. Because, like, not only do I trust you not to run out on me which with anyone else would totally be the scariest part of getting knocked up but, like, someone who’s half you and half me? I wanna meet that person. I’ll bet anything they’ll be totally rad.” She paused for breath. “And if that doesn’t happen now it probably never will, huh?” 

“I wish it could.” he said. “Five, ten years from now. I wanna just say we could try again then. ...Fuck, babe, I don’t even know if I’ll still be alive by then, much less if everything down there is still gonna be working alright.” 

“Oh you’ll be alive.” She said fiercely. “You and I are gonna be raising a kid together, you’d better be alive for it.” 

She could feel him smile. “Yeah? We are?” 

She hesitated. Then “We are.” 

“You’re gonna keep it?” 

Wendy nodded and Stan kissed her and she kissed back as she fought down a whole new fear. Men in her family had long lives. Her great-grandpa had only just died last year at 92, and he’d been in pretty good health right up until the end there. Honestly that might have something to do with how she could still be into the 58 year old Stan Pines, he wasn’t that old. He wasn’t really in good health though. His back problems were a recurring inconvenience, he probably had high blood pressure or something else he still took daily pills for. He had cataracts and wore dentures and honestly he was old. So how long did they have together really? Was it even fair to bring a kid into the world with the threat of losing their dad of old age looming over their head from the get-go? 

Yes, she decided selfishly. Because she wanted to keep some part of him alive. “Besides.” She mumbled jokingly against his lips. “If your junk stops working, they make pills for that.” 

Stan grumbled “Those things are expensive.” and Wendy laughed and kissed him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ultrasound leads Stan to a decision to protect his new family at any cost. Whether Wendy likes it or not.

One of the last things Wendy had read for High School english was Julius Caesar. So when her first Ultrasound was scheduled for March 15, she felt a little paranoid thrill. She expressed this thought to Stan, who laughed.

“You turning into some kinda nerd on me? Ha! Beware...more like beware the kid, right? ‘Cause they’re gonna be so awesome.” Wendy laughed too. 

She hadn’t planned to let Stan hold her hand at the ultrasound. It was weird enough her boss was the one taking her. They didn’t need to draw attention to the fact that he was the father. She’d told Stan as much, and he agreed. Then the gel hit her stomach and she reached for him reflexively. He squeezed her hand once and went to let go. She kept his hand in a death grip. 

It went well. The baby, such as it was, was healthy. When the room filled with the soft whir whir whir of a fetal heartbeat, Wendy felt tears in her eyes and saw them in Stan’s. “You sap.” she teased. 

“Speak for yourself, babe.” Stan laughed, but he squeezed her hand and they both ignored the judgemental look from the doctor.

That night, Stan held her a little tighter than usual. “Dude.” she teased. “Let a girl breathe.” but she held his arm exactly where it was.

He grumbled a little, then kissed her. It escalated, and the sex was weirdly intense. His touch was super deliberate and there was something different in his eyes. Afterwards, it took a while to come back down. He held her like normal, but he kept looking at her. Finally, she sighed. “Five minutes.” 

“Huh?” 

“You get five minutes to tell me whatever’s on your mind, no judgement. Be as sappy or as self-hating or whatever as you want and I won’t say a word. ‘Cause whatever this is, you need to get it out before you blow.” Stan was silent for a long moment so she added “Clock’s ticking, dude.” 

“I…” Stan tried. “I love you.” he said. “I’m...I can’t believe this is happening and I’m terrified. I...I...Wendy, I’d do anything to keep you and the kid safe and happy. Anything. I almost destroyed the world for my brother and this…” he blew out a hard breath. “Yeah. ...but what does that make me? You deserve better.” 

Wendy shook her head. “Only you.” she smiled. 

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna judge.” 

“C’mon, Stan!” Wendy grinned. “One breath it’s ‘I’d do anything for you’ and the next it’s ‘You deserve better’. What the hell do you think I deserve? You’re great! You’re better than great! If anything, you deserve better than a dumb kid like me!” 

Stan still looked lost. “Babe…” he said, pained. “You’ve got to stop thinking I’m a good person.” 

“What makes you not a good person?” Wendy challenged. 

“Oh let’s see…” Stan sounded exasperated. “Lifelong con man and thief, screwed up just about every good thing I ever had, almost destroyed the world and, oh yeah, I’m having a baby with a friggin sixteen year old!” 

“Okay, so first of all, what we’re doing now is mostly legit. At least as legit as the Mystery Shack. Not as cool but that’s not the point. Next, it wasn’t you who almost destroyed the world, it was Bill, and we couldn’t have beaten him without you. And finally” she paused “I seduced you! You tried to tell me no, I didn’t listen! If anything that makes me the bad guy here!” 

Something about that last bit got a big reaction out of Stan. “You never did anything I didn’t want. Don’t even think…” he trailed off. 

Wendy smirked. “Doesn’t feel good when somebody you care about says shit like that about themselves, does it?” 

Stan’s smile was still sad. “Hey. I wasn’t gonna say anything ‘til you asked.” he tugged her close then, and nuzzled her before asking “So, is there anything I could do that would make you...y’know. Stop thinking so well of me?” 

Wendy considered. “I dunno, maybe if you cheated on me or something?” 

Stan snorted. “Like I could land another chick half as hot as you.” then, more seriously “and even if I could, I wouldn't. You’re about all I can handle.” 

Wendy just smiled and cuddled into him, totally unprepared for the day two months later when Stan would come home with trembling hands and distant eyes. “Stan? Dude, are you okay?” She was freshly out of the shower, one towel around her body and another twisted over her hair.

“Yeah.” he said, like he was trying to convince himself more than her. “Yeah, everything’s great.” then he broke into a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just stole so much money, babe…” 

“What?” Wendy asked, shocked. “Why?” 

“Can’t raise a kid in a motel room.” Stan answered. “We need a real place to live. Just an apartment for now, month-to-month, shouldn’t be much more than here. I got enough to cover the deposit, plus a nice cushion just in case.” he paused “We can buy furniture, and all that stuff. This...this is a good thing.” 

Wendy frowned. “Why do you sound like you don’t believe that?” 

Stan sank down on the bed, and Wendy was struck, as she sometimes was, by how old he was. She sat beside him and rubbed his back. Finally, he asked. “You said there wasn’t really anything I could do to make you think I was bad. Did you mean it?” 

“Stan, you steal all the time.” Wendy answered. “I don’t really care how much as long as you keep the risk down.” A chill went through her. “Is that why you’re upset? Was the risk too big? Shit, is someone coming after us?” 

“No one’s coming after us.” he said quickly. Too quickly. Wendy felt another chill. “I made sure of that.” his voice was dark, and suddenly Wendy knew.

She still had to ask. “Stan.” her voice was firm. “What did you do?” 

Stan sighed. “You remember the loan, right? Got us this place and the startup money…” he took a breath, as if actually waiting for her answer. 

“Yeah…” she said, a bit gingerly.

“The guy was a loan shark.” he said. “Not...oh god, not even bad for his sort. Let me set up a payment plan. The interest was outrageous but...paying him back was doable.” 

“Was?” she echoed, something pulling in her chest and bringing her to the edge of tears.

“...Back in ‘74, I, uh, I borrowed from a guy like him. Nice guy. Big smile, firm handshake, I thought he was like me. I’d already run out on a couple loans by then when things fell through, but I was convinced things were gonna be different this time. Maybe they woulda been, if that guy had just been a little more patient. I missed a payment, and got no second chances. He got some guys together.” Here, Stan swallowed hard. “Beat the shit out of me. He...he was gonna kill me, but I got away.” he finally looked at her. “That kinda thing happened at least half a dozen times before I got to Gravity Falls. It was usually worse. One time, I had a partner. Came home to find him dead in the living room with…” he stopped suddenly, breathing heavily. “Anyway, he was dead. It was a warning to pay up.” There were tears in his eyes now. “Wendy, if that were you, especially now, I’d…” he trailed off, swallowed again and looked away. “Even the slightest chance of that...I couldn’t…” 

Wendy’s mind was swimming. She didn’t want to believe what she was hearing. “I can take care of myself dude.” she said heavily. “You don’t...you didn’t have to...Stan, what the hell did you do?” Because she needed to hear it. No matter how well she knew, she needed to hear it to believe it. 

“I killed him.” Stan admitted.

Wendy took a deep breath. “ohhh...Oh my god, Fuck, dude…” she took another deep breath, or tried to. It came in too shallow, didn’t fill her lungs enough. She closed her eyes. “Dude, that’s so not good. What if he had a family?” 

Stan barked out a harsh laugh. “Don’t care. He was a threat to mine.” he looked at her, eyes unfocused. “Still think I’m a good person?” at her silence, he snorted. “I tried to warn ya.” 

Wendy made a noise, like a whine. Stan’s touch was uncertain as he put an arm around her and pulled her close. “You shouldn’t have done that.” she said, voice shaking. “Stan that’s not… I don’t want to be okay with this.” 

“I’ll give you the money.” he said, and she looked at him in surprise. “If you wanna leave.” he clarified. “I’ll give you all the money I just stole, you can start over anywhere. You’d never have to…” 

She smacked him. Hard. Right across the face. He slipped off the edge of the bed and sat perfectly still on the floor at her feet. She still couldn’t breathe. He stayed on the floor, and she tried to think. 

It’d be one thing, she decided, if it had been in the heat of the moment. If someone had been trying to hurt her and Stan killed them in a fight or something. That would be one thing. That would be...not okay, but bearable. This though? This was cold. Premeditated. Stan had gone up to an as yet innocent man and just...ended his life. For a morbid moment, Wendy wondered how he’d done it. She decided she didn’t want to know. “Why, though?” she asked. He didn’t look up. “We’re doing fine. We weren’t gonna miss a payment, and even if we did, we could run.” 

“With a kid?” Stan demanded, voice raw like he’d been crying. Had he been crying? She tried to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the floor. “Wendy, we made it okay, living out of my car, but a baby?” he shook his head. “Believe me, I thought this through. It wasn’t impulsive.” 

Wendy laughed hallowly. “I’d be less upset if it was.” 

“I warned you.” he repeated. 

“I didn’t think you’d literally kill a dude for me!” she shouted.

Stan winced, then looked up. “What did you think, huh? What else could I have possibly meant?” 

Wendy thought back to that conversation. To the fond exasperation she’d felt then. “I thought you were just tearing yourself down again.” she admitted. “Y’know? ‘Boohoo, I had a rough life but I still care too much, I’m such a monster’, that kinda stuff.” 

Stan actually laughed, albeit briefly. Wendy almost recoiled at the sound and felt something inside her tear. Stan’s laugh usually made her so happy. Suddenly all she could think was that he had killed someone only a little while ago and he was already laughing. “Is that really how you see me?” he asked.

“That’s pretty up in the air right now, dude.” she answered honestly. “Like, you actually…” she paused, arguing with herself for a minute. She had to know. “You, like, made it quick though, right? You didn’t do something...I dunno, painful and horrifying, did you?” 

“Didn’t think you’d want details.” Stan muttered.

“I don’t!” she insisted. “I just...that part matters. Yes or no, was it quick?” 

To her momentary horror, Stan seemed to need time to think about that question. “He had about a minute to be scared,” he said finally. “‘Cause he saw it coming. Nothing that would’ve hurt physically any worse than a new bruise.” 

Wendy’s stomach rolled. A moment later she realized it wasn’t for the reason she’d thought. “He saw it coming?” she echoed, fury building in her voice. “I was adjusting badly enough to you being a murderer, now I have to deal with you being a stupid one! What if he’d turned the tables somehow? I mean you’ve done it enough times, how did you know he wouldn’t?” 

Stan shrugged. Fucking shrugged. “Worth the risk.” he declared. 

Wendy glared at him. “I should hit you again.” 

“Go ahead.” Stan replied. “Not like I don’t got it comin.” 

That promptly drained all desire to actually hit him. She wondered briefly if he’d done that on purpose. Then she sighed. “Get up here.” she told him. “Sitting on the floor like that is bad for your back.” 

Stan obeyed, hauling himself to his feet with a groan and returning to sit on the side of the bed. A moment passed without words. Then Stan said “I don’t regret it. Whatever you say, even if you leave me over it, I won’t regret it.” 

They sat in silence a while again, then Wendy said “I’m not leaving.” she reached out and took his hand. “I still love you, and I can’t do this -” she placed her other hand on her belly. “Alone. I think I might be a little afraid of you for a while, but I get it now. You really do care too much.” She paused, then added “and don’t think I don’t see how bad this is messing you up too. You may not regret it, but you know how horrible it was. I’m not about to let you off the hook for it either. You shouldn’t have done it, but you did and I still love you anyway because...fucked up as it was I understand why you did. Just. Promise me…” she paused. 

“What, promise I won’t ever kill someone to protect you again?” 

Wendy could hear his refusal already, and that wasn’t what she’d been about to say anyway. “That it won’t be cold blooded murder.” she said. “Promise me you’ll wait for them to be an actual threat next time. That you’ll trust me to look out for myself and our kid if there’s danger and you won’t go around killing people who haven’t done anything wrong yet just because they might hurt me.” 

Stan squeezed her hand gently, meeting her gaze. “Yeah.” he said after a moment. “Alright. I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem with a new home is the money you've gotta spend on turning an empty apartment into one.   
> Also - Name Talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everybody liked the angst last chapter, but I'm sorry guys. You get fluff this round.

Stan was surprised how much stuff he and Wendy had accumulated in three months at a motel. The stuff they were stealing from the motel was tucked onto the floor of his car, but the stuff that was legitimately theirs was piled high enough in the back seat that Stan was a little concerned about the usefulness of his rearview mirror on this trip. 

They got to their apartment, their apartment! And Stan carried a box under one arm and the keys in his other hand. He opened the door, stepped inside, and breathed in the new smell. If he had to guess he’d say it was whatever chemicals they’d scrubbed surfaces and cleaned the carpets with. He set the box down in the far corner of the living room. 

Wendy dropped her armload beside the box and asked “Want me to bring up the rest while you start unpacking?” 

Stan hated that his first reaction to the offer was relief. Maybe he was getting old and the trek up and down those stairs was gonna be hell on his knees, but Stan wasn’t gonna make his pregnant girlfriend do it instead. Besides, it hadn’t even been a whole year since stairs way steeper than that had been part of his nightly routine. “Nah, I’ve got it.” he grumbled. She looked at him, and for a tense moment he could feel the accusations of treating each other like glass on the tip of both their tongues. The moment passed, and Stan started back out the door. 

Unpacking only took about half an hour, and they looked around the still bare apartment, taking it in. “I can’t believe you sprang for the two bedroom.” Wendy said softly. 

Stan shrugged. “No telling how long we’ll be here. Kid needs their own room.” 

Wendy looked at him the way she did sometimes. The look that made him feel warm and appreciated and also like a complete monster because he had absolutely ruined Wendy’s life and she still looked at him like that. The guilty thoughts came and went like a cat, but Stan had learned to oil the cat door so it didn’t disturb him so much. “Yeah.” she agreed. Then she groaned, mood changing on a dime. “I can’t believe we’re really settling in. Like...this is it. This is what I ran away for.” 

Stan almost told her that she didn’t need to stay. Pop out the kid and he’d take it alone if she wanted to run. Hell, she wasn’t even obligated to do that much. After all that had happened though, after the ultrasound… he doubted she’d take him up on it, but he was still afraid to offer. Instead he said “This isn’t the end. This is just… a safe stop. We’ll figure out what we want home to be and make it happen.” 

There she was again, with that look. Right back where she started. “Yeah…” she said softly. She stepped in toward him, hands resting against his chest as she leaned in and kissed him softly. “We’ll give ‘em a good home, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Unfortunately, providing a good home meant spending a lot of money. Stan had the money, sure. He just didn’t like the spending part. Step one was furniture. Stan insisted on going to every thrift store, every goodwill, every low-cost store that sold any kind of furniture in the entire area to comparison shop before they made any purchases. This involved a lot of driving back and forth, which was how they ended up by the side of the road with Stan holding Wendy’s hair back while she puked. 

“I want.” she gasped, then spit to clear her mouth. “To do the math.” Stan looked at her, eyebrows raised. “...and prove to you that the money you’re wasting on gas is gonna make the cheapest purchases not worth it!” 

“Yer not gonna do the math, Wendy.” Stan scolded. “Too lazy for that.” 

Wendy growled at him and then heaved again, but nothing came out. Stan stepped away from her to get a water bottle, which he passed her. She drank too fast from it and Stan tried to speak but was too late and the water was half gone. Wendy looked a little green. “We’re getting the next couch we see.” she said, shoving the bottle at his chest. Then she wandered, unsteadily, to the car. 

“Why’d you do that?” he asked as he got in to drive again. She looked at him curiously. “You know better then to chug like that when your stomach’s bad.” Wendy grumbled, then mumbled something unintelligible. “What?” Stan demanded “Speak up, must be a problem with my hearing aid.” even though he knew good and well she just wasn’t speaking clearly at all. 

“I said.” she half shouted “I wanted to puke again so my stomach would STOP.” Then she slammed her head a little harder than necessary against the back of the seat. “This is the WORST. Why are we shopping when I’m sick?” 

“‘Cause you’re gonna be sick ‘til the second trimester.” Stan answered. “That’s a long time to go without furniture. And before you ask, we’re not stopping after furniture. I want one big day to buy shit. Like ripping off a band-aid.” 

Wendy groaned, then “I mean it. Next couch is ours.” 

In the end, Stan couldn’t complain about that ruling. It wasn’t the cheapest couch they’d seen all day, but it was dark blue and velvety and long enough for Wendy to stretch all the way out on. It forced Stan to admit that she had an inch or so on him, normally she slouched so much he could deny it, even in bed, but when she put her feet up against one armrest, her head brushed the other. Stan’s head came just a little short. Yes, they absolutely tried laying on the couch in the store, they’d been doing it all day. Tables and end tables fell into place after that, and beds were where they transitioned. Because with a bed they also had to buy a crib. 

Wendy was leaning lightly on the railing of a crib when she said suddenly “If it’s a boy, I kinda wanna name it after my dad.” 

“Yeah?” Stan couldn’t say he expected that. He felt a joke about not calling his baby “Manley” on the tip of his tongue, but Wendy was so still, so contemplative, hair hanging just a little in her face as she studied the inside of the crib that he felt a little pull on his heart and kept silent. Instead he tried “Dan Pines?” it almost worked, rhymed with his though which he didn’t like.

Wendy snorted. “Who says we’re using your last name?” and Stan startled. “You’re my boyfriend, not my husband. Baby’s technically what they call a bastard. Should get the mom’s name.” Stan grunted. He didn’t say anything but that definitely rubbed him the wrong way. Then she added “Besides, Daniel Pines would sound better. We couldn’t shorten it with your last name.” 

“Wouldn’t two Dan Courdourys get confusing anyway?” he commented, one hand on the crib. It seemed they had unconsciously made a selection. 

“Says the guy who literally shares a name with his identical twin.” 

“Technically I’m Stanley and he’s Stanford.” He hesitated, stiffening as something occurred to him. “Which uh. Which reminds me. Twins kinda run in my family.” 

Wendy went still as well, obviously considering the implications. “...there was only one heartbeat though…” she said softly.

He hated scaring her like this. It had to be said. “Ma didn’t know about me ‘til her eighth month. ‘S how Ford and I ended up with just about the same name.” 

“That explains it.” she tried to joke, but he could tell she was struggling. 

Stan shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll ask the doctor to check at your next appointment and figure it out then if we have to.” Wendy was gripping the edge of the crib a little too tightly, so Stan reached out and touched the center of her back. She relaxed into his touch and he dragged his hand up and down her spine. He felt her muscles slowly unclench and smiled. “So, uh, I think we picked a crib.” 

Wendy smiled down at the display crib under her hands. “Guess so.” she agreed. 

Babies need a lot of shit. The shopping cart was half-full, and not the way it was half full after a grocery run, literally piled up to halfway up the height of the cart. Full of baby stuff. They were most of the way through when Stan brought up “What if it’s a girl?” 

“I kinda hope it’s a girl, actually.” Wendy admitted. Then “I’ve been outnumbered by boys all my life. It’d be nice to switch that around, y’know.” 

Stan, who legitimately hadn’t cared one way or the other until that moment, grinned. “Yeah, I hope it’s a girl too.” He should have said the other, just to be contrary. Then she wouldn’t be looking at him like that again. So he got back to his point. “But I meant names. Did you have any girl names in mind?” Wendy fell silent for a moment. Long enough that Stan checked in. “Babe?” 

“It feels kinda morbid to name her after my mom, right?” she said finally. 

“I don’t think so.” he couldn’t even remember what Mrs. Corduroy's name had been. Some neighbor he’d turned out to be. 

Wendy shrugged. “What about you, any ideas for girl names?” 

Stan considered, then “Is it less morbid to name her after my ma?” because he didn’t see the problem with it in the first place. So he’d need her answer. 

“Feels like it to me.” Wendy answered, then “What was your mom’s name?” 

“Caryn.” Stan answered.

“Karen?” 

“C-a-r-y-n.” Stan clarified. 

“Caryn. I kinda like it. Caryn Corduroy.” 

Stan grinned. “We’ll need a middle name that starts with a C too.” 

“What about a middle name for a boy?” 

They talked middle names for another minute or two before being cut off by the more pressing conversation of baby goods selection. It was well into nighttime by the time they were done. They returned home - home! and laid out their bedding on the floor of the larger bedroom. The furniture was all being delivered tomorrow. 

Stan curled around Wendy’s back as he often did and nuzzled into her hair. He held her and they drifted peacefully after a long, but ultimately good, day, in their new home. For however long they had it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and with that, I'm out of buffer. It may be a while before this updates again guys, I'm sorry.


End file.
